any number of items from random days.

The lady bug was not there the following morning. To no surprise.

Yesterday was largely a failure. How does one not find a marsh? We drove around it for half an hour, unable to find a place to drive into and park and perhaps somehow manage to walk into the marsh from. I have theories but they have not been put into practice. Largely I found a decent if awful place to swim this summer, but this was too late.

A park snowed in with pollen. It drifted down from the trees into two foot piles and we (or John anyway) made pollen balls to throw and I suggested a pollen man but we forgot by the time we made it back to the car. A secret path that led to nowhere worthwhile at all. The industrial side of riverbeds and tankers moving trade one island to another. Your dog jumped into the river after sticks endlessly and all we could think of was how awful that river must be how awful for your dog and the tedium of it all.

And then nothing but slow, moderate drinking for eight hours. I was perhaps unenthusiastic but not surprised.

Today was not a failure per se but in no way a story of success. Son of Rambow was an excellent film. Today the house went up on craigslist and the result has been a nonstop cacophony of phones ringing and doors knocking. I sat on the stoop and you walked down after checking out the room. You sat next to me and for no reason really, you knew I was leaving, and we chatted for about fifteen minutes. I thought you were very cute but very young perhaps. Very innocent maybe. You said you would be back later in 2-3 hours to drop off a check. It didn't matter to me. How does it involve me? Regardless I made sure I was still on the stoop by the time you came back and you did but with company and this company was also your boyfriend. Perhaps you really are just a decent person that likes meeting new people.

Certainly I am not.

I spent a lot of time doing nothing at all. Maybe thinking about the things I ought to be doing. Wondering about certain mistakes I may have made or whether or not I could have changed things somehow. But these are largely worthless wanderings of the brain. This chemical factory popping off one too many 0's and not enough 1's.

Less Than Zero? I should have read this in high school. Somehow it has evaded me until now. Perhaps it is bad that I still can relate to this overwhelming sense of disconnectedness.

Then again, perhaps it is all too entirley natural.

I thought of a few story ideas. Maybe we'll share them with each other.